


Pink Matte Lipstick

by SDTS



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7595815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SDTS/pseuds/SDTS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Terrified of storms, you are relieved that Sam is stuck in the house with you to keep you company. Having harbored a crush on him for ages, you are looking forward to catching up with him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink Matte Lipstick

You know it is lame but you are afraid of bad thunderstorms. Too bad for you that the summer is absolutely filled with them.

            You are thinking about how much you hate them as you watch one roll in when the front door opens. Startled, you turn around. Your parents are out of town and so is your older brother. Just your luck that someone would break in right now.

            Grabbing a vase off the side table, just in case, you inch out of the dining room towards the kitchen. As you step into the living room, you are brought up short by the sight of your brother’s best friend, Sam Drake.

            He is standing in the living room with his phone in one hand. When he sees you, he arches one of his eyebrows.

            “Uh, hello to you too.”

            You let out a sigh and lower the vase, “Jesus, you scared me. I thought you were someone breaking in.”

            “Casually, through the front door?” He shows you the house key, “Your brother said we were going to hang out today.”

            You put the vase on the nearest table and go over to Sam, “Well, you should try calling him. Pretty sure he is staying out of town for another night.”

            “What? Are you serious?” He says and is already calling your brother.

            “Yup. I think he met some girl.”

            Sam turns away from you to call your brother. Your gaze lingers on his grey t-shirt. It is splattered with rain and sticks to his back. Man, he is fit. Sam, and to a lesser extent his brother Nate, have been best friends with your brother for as long as you can remember.

            Naturally, that meant that Sam was your first real crush. You could still remember being eleven years old when he was fourteen and catching glimpses of him by the pool during the summer. When you hit high school, you dated guys but still couldn’t help but admire Sam any time he came over to hang out. The pattern repeated itself your entire life. Even now, at twenty-one, you still were harboring a crush on Sam.

            “You’re what? You couldn’t have sent me a text or something?” Sam is saying into the phone.

            Sam had been traveling a lot lately. Because of that, you hadn’t seen him as much as you used to. Seeing him now was a sight for sore eyes. His jeans were a perfect fit for his ass and –

            “Idiot.” Sam mumbles into the phone and turns around to face you.

            You look back up at Sam’s face quickly. Outside, there is a clap of thunder and you flinch.

            “Still scared of storms?” He asks you.

            “Yes. Don’t make fun of me.”

            “I never make fun of you.”

            “Except when you do. So, my brother isn’t coming?”

            Sam groans and walks past you into the kitchen, “No. Moron met some girl and is staying there overnight. He could have let me know. I drove thirty minutes here just so we could go out tonight. You have any beer?”

            “Probably. I think his is in the back of the fridge.” You rest your elbows on the counter.

            Sam goes over to the fridge and yanks it open, “Gonna drink all his beer. I’m not driving in this storm.”

            As if in reply, there is a flash of lighting so bright it illuminates the kitchen followed by a boom of thunder that shakes the house. You wince and look out the window. The rain is coming down in buckets now.

            “I hate these summer storms.” You grumble, turning back to look at Sam.

            Sam is bending over to grab a beer out of the fridge. Man, that ass though, you think as you stare at it. Those stupid, perfectly fit jeans –

            He pulls out a beer and twists off the cap, turning to face you, “You going out somewhere?”

            “What? No.”

            “You normally wear lipstick around the house then? Is that something new?”

            You are confused for a second before remembering that you are currently wearing a pale pink matte lipstick, “Oh, I just bought it and was trying it on. Seeing how it looked. Then the storm came in and then I thought you were an intruder.”

            “Ah, gotcha. Looks nice on you.” He says and takes a swig out of his beer before heading towards the living room.

            Did he just compliment you? Had he ever done that before? No. You would have filed that away in the portion of your brain saved up completely for Sam Drake.

            Another clap of thunder sends you scurrying into the living room after him. Sam has plopped down on the couch and is turning the TV on. You grab a blanket off a chair and go on the opposite side of the couch, wrapping it around you.

            Sam glances at you, “Are you cold?”

            “No. I just like to bundle up during storms.”

            “You look like a burrito.”

            “Thanks.” You reply.

            “Storm knocked out the satellite signal again,” Sam says with a sigh as the error message pops up on the TV, “I’m going to kill your brother.”

            The house vibrates from another bang of thunder and you let out whimper, pulling the blanket around you tighter. You are glad Sam is here. You’ve been stupidly scared of these storms since you were a kid. At least you aren’t alone.

            “Guess we wait the storm out.” Sam says, taking another sip of his beer.

            “Guess so.” Your voice is muffled from the blanket.

            Sam is drumming his fingers against the beer bottle. You want to ask him how he’s been doing, how traveling has been, what he has been up to, but you are too scared of the storm to ask anything.

            Finally, he shifts so that he is looking at you and moves down so that he is sitting next to you instead of the other end of the couch.

            “What are you doing?” You mumble.

            “You look ridiculous; you know that? I’ll sit here so you can grab onto me if you get too scared.” He remarks and picks up a magazine that was on the coffee table.

            Is he serious? He seems serious. You can smell cologne and tobacco off of his shirt and you find the scent comforting. Sam has always smelt like that. You fight the urge to rest your head on his shoulder.

            Then the house shudders again and the power goes out. Since it is the afternoon, you luckily aren’t in complete darkness. The sun is struggling to break through the clouds but is having little luck.

            You grip Sam’s arm for a second or two as you listen to the rain come down. Sam is flipping through the magazine but glances at you when you touch his arm. With his other hand, he leans forward and put his beer on the coffee table before turning to look at you.

            You are surprised to be so close to those brown eyes of his. Your fingers are curled around his bicep and you can feel how warm he is.

            Sam chuckles a little and you frown, “What?”

            “I told you. You look ridiculous. I haven’t seen you in, what six months? And you’re wearing pink lipstick while huddled in a blanket because you are afraid of storms.”

            “Well, I’m a mess, what can I say?” You joke.

            Your eyes meet and something pass between the two of you. It is a strange burst of energy. Your heart flutters for a moment and your fingers curl around his bicep. Slowly, Sam moves his hand to the side of your face.

            The touch is the first direct touch you have ever had with him in your life. Believe it – you have filed away any sort of indirect touch from Sam over the years. Like the time you were sixteen and you were at a waterpark and almost slipped on the pavement. He had caught you then. You could still remember his fingers on your bare back as he made sure you didn’t make a complete ass out of yourself.

            He brushes the back of his hand against your cheek very faintly. His breath catches and then he drops his hand and clears his throat.

            “Jesus, sorry, I haven’t eaten today. Beer must be affecting me.” He says quickly.

            But you don’t feel like listening to his excuses. Something about that look and that touch has snapped the little resistance you had to Sam. Your hand drops from his bicep to his fingers and wrap around them. Then you bring his hand back to your cheek.

            “I shouldn’t – I shouldn’t.” He finally says although his hand stays there.

            Your fingers are pressed against his hand, keeping it in place, “Why not?”

            “It’d be bad.”

            “Why?” You press.

            His fingers are trailing down your cheek towards your lips and he says, “Your brother would kill me.”

            “My brother isn’t here.” You whisper.

            Sam seems enchanted with your lips, unable to pull his eyes away from them as he slowly brushes his fingers over them. When he does it a second time, you open your mouth slightly and suck on one of his fingers. He lets out a small noise from the back of his throat as you gently suck on his finger.

            “You’re going to smudge your lipstick.” Sam mumbles as he watches you.

            “I told you. I’m trying it out. Seeing how resistant it can be. If it can smudge.” You say around his finger.

            “Is that right? Guess we should test it out then.” His voice is taunt like a wire about to snap as your tongue rolls across the top of his finger.

            You nod and then his finger is out of your mouth and his lips are crushing yours. The kiss is greedy, hungry, desperate – and not just on your side. Your hands go around his neck and you crush your lips against his. It feels as if all the air has been completely sapped out of your lungs. When there is a clap of thunder, it barely registers.

            Underneath your fingertips, you can feel Sam’s heart pounding. His mouth opens and his tongue slips against yours. He tastes like cigarettes and beer. He tastes exactly how you have imagined him to taste over these long years.

            When the kiss breaks, Sam’s mouth is smeared with pink lipstick and you laugh.

            “What?” He asks and then touches your lips, “Your lipstick smudged.”

            “Yeah, onto you. Pink isn’t your color. Trust me on this.”

            He grins and rubs the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe away the lipstick. Then he is kissing you again. Your hands are going for his jeans and he grabs them.

            “Maybe we shouldn’t…I mean. I want to. I really want to. But…”

            “But what?”

            “I’ve wanted this for so long,” Sam says quickly, “But…”

            “I don’t care about my brother,” You say sternly, “Now shut up so I can suck your cock.”

            Sam makes a strangled noise – sort of a mixture between desire and amusement – and you are tugging off his jeans before he can say anything else. You sink to your knees and pull off his boxers.

            Sam is stiff and thick and his dick looks just like you had pictured it. You waste no time in sliding your tongue up his entire length. He shivers underneath you and his head rolls back against the couch. You bring your tongue down and then up again before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock.

            He lets out a moan at this and the sound of Sam moaning from something you are doing makes your knees go weak. There is another shudder from the house as thunder bangs but you don’t notice. You are too focused on the taste of his cock in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the head of his dick before taking as much of him as you can.

            Sam grunts and says, “This is really bad. We shouldn’t - ”

            You make a noise around his cock and he lets out a ragged breath. Then you bring your lips up across his dick. It comes out of your mouth with a soft popping noise. You grip his cock and look down at it.

            “Got to the base.” You reply and Sam looks down.

            There is a pink lipstick mark around the base of his dick. He laughs at this and you look up at him and grin.

            Then you clear your throat, “Do you want me to stop?”

            Sam’s breath catches and for a moment, you think he is going to tell you to stop. That he will tell you he is too concerned about your brother somehow finding out and it is better to stop. But then he shakes his head. That is all you need.

            Your mouth is back on his dick. Sam is thick and can barely fit in your mouth but you are determined to work him over. You can feel him twitching in your mouth. The taste of his cock is making your head feel empty. It is the only thing you can focus on.

            With every flick of your tongue, Sam is letting out soft moans. His fingers are gripping the couch and his eyes are closed. He looks amazing. You feel amazing with his dick in your mouth and him enjoying it so much.

            Then his hand is reaching out for you and he is saying, “Stop – stop. I’m going to cum.”

            You look up at him, “You don’t want to?”

            He is looking down at you. The lust in his eyes is unmistakable.

            Sam shakes his head, “No, I want to fuck you. Can I fuck you?”

            “Hmmm,” You drag it out as if you are really considering it, “I mean, I guess soooo…”

            He laughs and is sliding off the couch, coming towards you. His lips are on yours and he is tugging off your clothes. You pull his t-shirt off of him and run your fingers against his chest.

            Sam pushes you gently down on the floor of the living room and slinks on top of you. Both of you are completely naked. You feel his entire body against you – bare skin on bare skin – and it is the most amazing feeling you have ever felt.

            Your hands go to his ass – finally, you think with relish – and you grab it as his mouth finds your nipples and sucks and gently bites on them. His dick is pressing against your pussy and your legs wrap around his waist to pull him as close to you as you can get.

            Sam drags his lips from your nipples up to your neck. He is breathing hard and his skin is so warm. Your lips meet again in a passionate kiss.

            “You said –” Your voice catches and you clear it, “You said you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.”

            “Yes.” He mumbles against your lips.

            Sam is pressing his cock against your pussy. You can feel it pressing against your lips as he slides it against you. It keeps brushing against your clit and making you shiver.

            “How long?”

            “Too fucking long. I’ve liked you for too fucking long. I’m a saint for holding out as long as I did.”

            You laugh and you can feel Sam grinning against the skin of your neck, “A saint, are you?”

            “Yeah, that’s right.” He replies and then he is entering you.

            You hold onto him as his cock enters your pussy. You are so wet that you easily wrap around his entire length. He groans in your ear. His arms wrap around you, bringing you close against him.

            You are clinging to him. Sam starts to thrust into you. Each thrust is hard and deep, causing you to shiver and shake against him. He is breathing heavily into your ear and the sound is making you even wetter.

            When he slams into you again, he groans and says, “This is bad.”

            “So bad.” You mumble back as you arch your back.

            “Very fucking bad.” He agrees as the entire length of his cock fills you up.

            You are moving your hips now, bucking them to meet his thrusts. You are trying to take him as deep as you can go. The sound of his cock slamming into your pussy makes soft wet noises. Sam is grunting and fucking you so hard that you can’t even think anymore.

            Then he grips your waist and says, “Get on all fours. I can make you cum that way.”

            “Oh, really?”

            His fingers are in your hair as he kisses you, “You doubt me?”

            “Maybe a little.” You tease.

            “I’m going to have to show you now.” He says as you turn over and get on all fours.

            With you on all fours and Sam on his knees, he enters you again. The sensation from this position is completely different from the first. Surprised, you moan and your hands give out. You grip the rug underneath you as Sam puts his hands on your lower back.

            He feels even bigger from this angle. You don’t know how your pussy is taking all of him but it is. Sam begins to fuck you hard like this. You are powerless, just letting yourself be overtaken by the fact that he is pounding you like this. Each time he enters you, you hear your skin smacking together and you bury your face in the carpet. Your knees are going to rug burnt, you think, but it is worth it.

            Sam gently pushes you down a little farther. At first, you don’t know what he is doing. But then his cock hits some sort of pleasure center in you and you let out the loudest moan yet.

            Behind you, you can hear Sam chuckle, “There it is.”

            Each time he thrusts now, he is hitting that sweet spot. Your fingers are gripping the rug. You always thought this rug was pointless – a rug over the carpet, why bother? But now, it is your favourite thing in the world. It is allowing you to grip onto something while Sam’s dick does things to you that you didn’t think was possible.

            You are bouncing your ass back now against his thrusts. Your moans are loud to even your own ears. You don’t even hear the storm anymore.

            “Look at you go.” Sam says, “What if I just stop?”

            And he does. He stops thrusting in you. He goes completely still. But that doesn’t stop you. You slam your ass back on him, your pussy still taking him completely with each thrust backwards. Yet without his help, he isn’t hitting that spot anymore and you let out a frustrated whimper. You are still moving your hips and look back at him.

            “I like watching you,” Sam admits, “I like watching you bounce on my cock. You were meant to be bouncing on my cock.”

            “And you were meant to make me cum so stop playing around.” You groan, frustrated.

            Sam grins wickedly at you and grabs your hips again before he starts to vigorously fuck you. Each time he is hitting that spot in you – the spot that fills you with such pleasure you can’t even think.

            Your toes curl and you buck your hips before you are cumming. Your hair is stuck to your face and you are sweating as you cum.

            “I told you,” Sam groans as you cum, “I told you I could make you cum this way.”

            You let out a garbled up noise of pleasure as you cum. Your breathing is ragged and you are gulping for air.

            “I’m going to cum.” He says and then you pull yourself away from him.

            He slides out of you and surprise crosses his face. But you are crawling towards his cock and tell him, “My mouth. In my mouth.”

            Sam’s surprise is wiped away by lust as you go over to his dick. He is jerking himself off now in front of you. You open your mouth and then he moans and his head rolls back.

            Your lips go around the head of his dick and he is cumming in your mouth. You close your eyes with pleasure. How many times have you pictured this? How many times have you thought about tasting his cum and taking his load like this? Too many to count.

            His cum fills your mouth. His groaning sounds so good that if you weren’t so wiped out from your orgasm, you’d want to fuck him again just to hear him moan longer.

            You swallow his cum greedily and then he slumps down on the floor with his back against the couch. You are both trying to catch your breath. Sam reaches out for you and pulls you towards him. He is staring at you intently.

            “What are you doing?” You ask through gasps for air.

            “Your lipstick. It’s gone.”

            You had forgotten about the lipstick. Your fingers go to your lips. Your mind is still trying to catch up.

            Sam smiles at you, “Guess it smudges through vigorous fucking. You should probably try out another brand. You know, since we are going to be doing a lot of this now.”

            Then his arms are around your waist and he is kissing you again. Everything else, including the storm, is forgotten.


End file.
